


Dimhollow

by TheAnonymousAcorn



Series: Serana's Past Trauma [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Honestly bit of a Mess, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pre-Canon, Self-Worth Issues, Serana's Life is a Mess, Valerica being a bad mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnonymousAcorn/pseuds/TheAnonymousAcorn
Summary: Valerica enacts her plan with Serana, and drags her off to Dimhollow.
Relationships: Serana & Valerica (Elder Scrolls)
Series: Serana's Past Trauma [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134452
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Dimhollow

**Author's Note:**

> This... became much longer than I expected.

A sigh escaped Serana as she glanced around her bedroom. The alchemy table in the corner quietly bubbled despite not being used for a few days now, books she’d read a dozen times were left unceremoniously scattered on her desk and shelves, along with potions she’d never use, and a single lit candle stood on her nightstand. She sat cross legged on her bed that she had fought tooth and nail to keep after becoming a vampire. Coffins had never appealed to her, and even if it only served to make her father angrier than he already was, she would not give up her bed for one. It was the only real fight they’d ever had, and it was over something so mundane she almost wished she’d let him have his way, especially since she wouldn’t be seeing him after today. Not for a while. Serana would never say she wanted to leave him, the decision had been her mother’s. Valerica often talked to her about how tired she was growing of fighting with him, of his ignorance, of his obsession. On some level, Serana agreed.

Her father had stumbled upon some prophecy during one of his trips to the mainland. It was vague, but he’d latched onto it ever since. He’d explained it to Serana only once, that it would give them a way to blot out the sun itself. A way for vampires to finally live freely instead of having to hide in the shadows. Her mother had quickly shot down the idea, trying to explain that, besides the pure insanity of the thought, it would only invite a war with Tamriel. The arguing became constant, and Serana would often be caught in the middle. Her father would try to use her as a tiebreaker, make her pick sides, but her mother would always choose who she sided with. All she could do was watch as one tried to pin her against the other. In the end, she always chose her mother. Not because she loved her more, but Valerica always reminded her of their bond, how her father had done nothing but bring pain into their lives.

And, like a fool, Serana believed her.

She loved her father, but he was unstable. Her mother, at least in her eyes, only wanted to protect her. Her mother only did what was best, even if Serana didn’t always agree. _“Mother is at least of sound mind.”_ She let out a hum. Deep down, Serana wasn’t sure either of her parents were of “sound mind”, she certainly wasn’t.

“Serana,” the sound of her mother’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, and Serana quickly stood. Valerica eyed her from the doorway, arms behind her back. “It’s time. Come with me.” Without a word, Serana nodded and quickly went after her mother as she left. Part of her felt like a child again, trying to keep up with her mother’s strides.

The castle was mostly quiet, save for the sound of growling death hounds on the lower floor. Serana supposed most of the others were asleep. It was nearly midday, not exactly prime time for any of them to be going about, which was precisely what they wanted. Her mother took her hand, pulling Serana in the direction of the Courtyard. The younger vampire didn’t question the direction, simply followed her down the short staircase and out the large doors that lead into the garden her mother had maintained for well over a hundred years. Her heart tightened at the thought she’d never have a chance to walk through it again. What would happen to it once her father saw they were gone? He’d throw a fit and most likely uproot it in the process. Serana came to a stop near the moondial, taking in what would be her last time in the Courtyard for Gods knew how long, while her mother made her own way towards a group of gravestones. She soon heard the subtle sound of moving stone, and took her eyes off the bushes of Nightshade and Deathbells to watch her mother pull something from the stone wall.

Serana squinted for a moment, until Valerica faced her again and her eyes widened. “Is that… One of father’s Elder Scrolls?”

Her mother strolled over to her. “No. It’s your Elder Scroll. You’re taking it with you.” It was more of an order than anything, and Serana hesitantly took it in her hands.

She’d never touched either Elder Scroll before, it was much heavier than she would have expected it to be. “Won’t he come looking for it?” Harkon cared more for the Scrolls than he did his own family. It had taken him a lifetime to find them, and for a long while he’d kept them locked away. She wasn’t even sure how her mother would have obtained it without him noticing. “How did you get this? Why are we-”

Valerica pressed a finger to her daughter’s lips. “Hush. You trust me don’t you?” Serana gave a small nod. “Then don’t ask questions. Just do as you're told.”

“Yes, mother….” Serana muttered, slinging the Scroll onto her back and securing it in place with the strap.

A small smile crossed her mother’s face. “Good girl.” She gave Serana a small pat on the head, then took the girl’s hand once again and led her into the Undercroft so they wouldn’t be seen.

They didn’t make conversation on their ride across the sea. Valerica spent most of the time either checking over her map, or looking over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed, while Serana rowed and tried to put her mind to anything other than the trip ahead of them. Her mother hadn’t explained much of the plan, just that she’d found a place Harkon wouldn’t think to look for Serana. She found that rather hard to believe, if she was being hidden with an Elder Scroll he’d turn the province upside down to find the damned thing. Still, Serana knew better than to question her mother, even if she had second thoughts it was too late to turn back. She kept her gaze to the shore, and tried to revel in the fact she was finally getting away from the island, even if she wouldn’t get the freedom to explore Skyrim like she’d always hoped.

The moment they had gotten to the jetty, the pair stepped out of the boat and pulled it onto the shoreline. Serana took a moment to stare at the frost covered trees while her mother stuffed the map back into the pack she’d brought along. “It’s… very pretty.” She found herself commenting, only to hear her mother give a huff.

“We’re not here to sight see.” Valerica reminded her, and she uttered an apology. “Come, we’ve a long walk ahead of us and I’d rather make headway before that oaf wakes up and notices what we’ve done.”

Serana sighed, but closely followed behind her mother as she led the way to the main road. She supposed it wasn’t very special, the snow covered land wasn’t much different from the island, but she hadn’t seen it so up close since she was a girl. Not since her father had ruled as a king, and she scarcely remembered that time at all. A part of history better lost to the ages, she supposed, he'd been a tyrant even back then. At least, that’s what her mother told her whenever she asked about it.

Her mother’s voice brought her from her thoughts. “Dawnstar is about a day's walk, but assuming we don’t have to stop we should get there by morning….” Serana nodded as if she knew where that was.

“And what if father finds us?” She asked, rather quietly. Valerica paused, as if she hadn’t considered the possibility.

“He won’t.”

“But-”

“Serana,” her mother stopped, looking back with a sharp glare, and Serana unconsciously tensed with an inhale. “ _Enough_.” The younger Nord shrunk at the harsh tone, hands tightening around the Scroll’s strap. “Unless you’re going to tell me you see your father, or one of his little underlings, coming after us, keep. Your mouth. _Shut_.” Her mother hissed out the last word like a curse.

“Y-Yes, mother.” She squeaked in reply. “I… My apologies….” Valerica glared for another moment, until Serana broke eye contact in favour of the ground, then continued forward with the long walk ahead. Slowly, Serana followed, now fixed on footprints rather than the person making them.

She’d always been somewhat intimidated by her mother. Where her father could terrify her, Valerica always managed to make her feel inadequate. Nothing Serana did was ever viewed as good enough for the matriarch. When her mother had started teaching her alchemy as a young girl, Serana had been incredibly fascinated by the practice. She felt proud making even the simplest of potions, but Valerica had been indifferent. More often than not, she thought Serana should have been making more complex concoctions by the age of seven, which in turn caused Serana to spend many sleepless nights studying. Even when she had managed to figure out the proper methods, it was met with criticism. When Valerica had started to show her necromancy, she would cast disappointed looks when Serana only managed to raise small animals rather than full grown adults twice her size. So Serana spent countless hours practicing on dead prisoners, and even after she’d made one follow her through the Castle, she only got in trouble when it turned to dust. She felt less like her mother’s daughter and more like an apprentice.

But it was worth it, for the attention, for the rare pats on the head and quiet “good work”s, for the time they spent together. Sometimes they’d spend full days on certain subjects, and Serana couldn’t have been happier. It made her feel like she had a friend, even if her mother pushed her, or made her feel awful, or gave her judgmental glares. Valerica made it clear it was all out of love. That her parents had treated her in a similar fashion as a girl. The only difference was Valerica had delivered perfection inside the walls of a kingdom, and Serana had to work around sacrificial meetings and perverted cultists. _“But that’s no excuse, is it?”_ Serana pursed her lips. No, she supposed it wasn’t. She should have worked harder.

The walk to Dawnstar gave her plenty of time to reflect on her life. She’d never really had the chance to explore Skyrim before, even for the brief time she had lived on the mainland. Her parents had kept her relatively isolated even as an infant, then joined the cult shortly after she’d turned three and moved them to the island. As it turned out, there weren’t many children that joined the ranks of Molag Bal. The few youngest members at the time were about eight to ten years her senior, and wanted nothing to do with her. As a child her social life consisted of her mother, her father, the odd cult member or priest, and the skeevers that dwelled in the Undercroft. If she wanted attention of any kind she’d have to fight for it, and the attention she did receive without prompting was often underlined with unwanted touching, or flashing of parts no child should have seen. Looking back, she supposed the only reason none of them had tried anything more than that was to keep her pure for the Daedric Prince, and once she’d been turned they all realized she could rip their throats out if she wished.

She wasn’t sure if that made the end result better for her, or worse.

After her fifteenth year, she was turned. The memories of the ritual made her skin crawl, and she unconsciously rubbed her arm where the scars still showed. Much like her mother, and the few other survivors before her, they littered her body from her arms, to her midsection, to her thighs. When she bathed it was hard not to focus on them, and even over a hundred years later she found herself spacing out on the markings, though it wasn’t something she ever brought up. Shortly after she’d woken up from turning, she spent a month without leaving her room. She didn’t want to be seen by anyone, because most of them had already seen far more of her than she would have liked. The thought of what they must think of her had made her terribly depressed. Garan Marethi, one of the few who had always been somewhat soft, had been kind enough to bring her the odd tankard of blood so she wouldn’t go feral. Her parents, on the other hand, had told her she was being ridiculous, that she’d known her fate since she was a toddler, and it was time to get over it.

She tried, but even now she wasn’t over it. Whenever somebody touched her, it made her flinch. She could still see the shape of Molag Bal take form in shadows on the wall. She still relieved it through nightmares, sometimes exaggerated and sometimes accurate, but she never said anything. Her mother would only roll her eyes despite going through the same ritual, and her father would call her pathetic. The worst part was she would believed him.

Harkon had never been the best father. He was a quick man to anger, and often used the excuse of “My mother would have given me ten lashes just for dressing wrong.” as if that made it better. Serana wasn’t sure she believed those claims anymore, but as a girl she’d somehow made it mean that he cared about her. That if he wasn’t willing to hit her, he obviously loved her, and he only got mad because she had done something wrong. After he’d found the prophecy he’d stopped giving both Serana and Valerica the time of day. It was all he thought about, like a disease that plagued his mind, and in turn had strained his relationship with his wife. Valerica grew to resent him, and often ranted to Serana about it. How he’d cast her aside, treated her like a common fledgling, and how dare he? When her mother had given up her life for him? Not just in sacrifice to a Daedra but in their marriage as a whole?

And Serana listened to all of it, because he had done the same to her.

A quiet sigh escaped her and she crossed her arms over her stomach, glancing at her surroundings to distract herself. They’d gone from the snowy mountain roads to the grassy, lightly forested, path that led to and from Solitude. They weren’t going to the city, as much as Serana wanted to ask, but instead to the small village of Dragon’s Bridge. She quietly admired the buildings and few citizen’s from under her hood. Part of her wondered what it was like to grow up in such an ordinary place. To not have to worry over being a sacrificial lamb. She wondered if her parents would have been happier in a mundane life, if her father would have cared a little more, if her mother would have owned a small alchemy shop. Perhaps in another life they would have all been a little happier, but they’d never know that now.

Her and her mother walked in silence for hours, past the swampy land of Morthal and into the snowy tundra near Dawnstar. Serana watched as snowflakes landed on her hands and kept their shape. She marveled at it for a while, the fact that her skin was as cold as the snow itself. Serana missed feeling the cold winds on her skin, suddenly coming to the realization she hadn’t felt much of anything in a very long time.

“Are we almost there?” She eventually asked, causing Valerica to give a harsh sigh.

“What did I say?” She snapped, not looking back.

The younger woman pursed her lips. “I’m sorry….” She tugged at her sleeves, noticing a loose thread. “I’m just… a little tired.” She watched as her mother pinched the bridge of her nose. “F-Forget I said anything-”

“Just-! Stop talking.” Valerica huffed, though she sounded more upset than actually annoyed. “...Another hour or so. We have to trek up the side of a mountain.” Serana’s head perked up at the information. “Then make our way through a cave. Then you can rest as long as you need.” She gave a small nod in response, and rushed to get closer to the matriarch as they walked.

A moment passed before Serana took her mother’s hand. “I love you.” She said quietly, and Valerica gave a small smile.

“I know.”

The path up the mountain was covered in fresh snow, and the walk felt like a lifetime to Serana. She found herself wondering how it came to this. If she could have done something different to prevent it. Maybe she could have made him stay on the island that day, so he never would have found that damned prophecy. Maybe she should have expressed her feelings about it beyond what her mother seemed to think. She should have found him something else to obsess over. She should have done… something. Anything besides standing by and watching her family fall apart around her. Her parents had been so preoccupied with each other, would they have even listened? If she told them she missed the early days when they weren’t constantly butting heads just from looking at each other, would they have even cared? She’d never know.

 _“You let it fall apart. This is all your fault.”_ Her mouth twitched.

Valerica came to a sudden stop, and Serana narrowly avoided bumping into her. “Here.” She gestured to a short flight of snow covered stairs that led to a hole in the mountain side. “Stay close, and don't touch anything.” Serana gave a hum in reply as they entered the cave.

Surprisingly, the trek through the Nordic Crypt was uneventful. It was filled with the bodies of long dead warriors, but none sprung to life like the tales in her books. Other than the lifeless husks, the ruin was empty. She didn’t know who would be keeping it clean, but perhaps they had priests come by to check on the dead. An odd concept, what was the point if no one inside was alive to appreciate the effort?

There wasn’t much time to dwell on the thought. Her mother pulled her through what seemed like a graveyard, and then a set of winding halls, then seemingly a second graveyard that was slowly being overtaken by a waterfall, and eventually they came to a door. Through it was another part of the cave, though it had changed from simple man-made Nordic architecture to that of Castle Volkihar. Serana wondered how long ago it would have been made as her mother dragged her down a set of stairs and over the bridge between one piece of flooring and the next, then came to a stop in the center of a circle of arches. In front of her stood a pillar, and she wasted no time in pressing her hand to the button on top. Serana jumped watching a spike impale her mother’s hand, causing a pained hiss from the older woman. The torch sconces lit up with purple flames, and they both took a step back as the floor lowered under them revealing a stone monolith, no bigger than a coffin. Serana felt her chest tighten at the sight of the small space.

“Mother….” She started, but paused at the somber expression she was given. Neither of them wanted this, and there was no sense in making it harder than it already was. “I’ll miss you.”

Valerica took the girl by her shoulders, then brushed some of the hair away from her face. “I’ll miss you too.” Her mother hummed in response, gently pushing her back into the tomb. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.” She didn’t sound confident in that, but whatever response Serana had was cut off by the wall of stone sealing her into darkness. She pressed her back to the wall, giving a shaky breath as tears gathered in her eyes.

All she could do now was wait.


End file.
